


The Trial

by Tela_Tequila



Category: N/A - Fandom
Genre: Black Character(s), Drama, F/M, False Accusations, Magic, My First AO3 Post, POV First Person, Witchcraft, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 15:34:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17531441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tela_Tequila/pseuds/Tela_Tequila





	The Trial

The cold chains cut into my skin as I fidgeted trying to relieve the painful tingling from standing for what seemed like an eternity and a half. My ass and back were full of splinters from the rough, ancient wood column these religious morons fastened me to so that I wouldn't deceive them with my "witchcraft". I was dragged from my home and sleep before the sun by rough clergymen and their faithful, idiotic followers shouting and spitting accusing me of cursing Johnathan, eldest son of the bishop. They knocked me to the floor, laughed as they dislocated my shoulder chaining me, and tore at my clothes and hair as their wives and daughters looked on with hatred twisting their features and a twinkling enthrallment behind their eyes. They hated my existence and that I blatantly went against their prudish religious teachings and preachings but were waiting for me to smite their town with curses of plague and disease laying them to ruin. As I was prodded and pushed through the rabid crowd, I smirk and blow a kiss to a few of the more familiar faces enjoying the enigma of emotions crossing their face ultimately landing on repulsion. I'm pulled by the biting metal collar around my neck and forced to trudge barefoot through the icy mud of the deep forest as my legs were sliced and stabbed by the foliage that seemed to take on the cruel mood of the night. I knew this terrain blindfolded but was still tripped up by a hidden root or slippery patch of fallen leaves which earned me a kick to the side and another choking pull of the chain, cutting into my skin as my blood dripped into the mud. As we neared the old church ground where they persecuted countless witches by various gruesome, cruel methods, I was chained to a detached column where the building had fallen due to neglect as the priest and his "holy army" had made themselves front and center of the mob; their auras dripping in self righteousness and pride. As I looked among the faces of the people ranging from the sleepy, susceptible youth to their disapproving, indomitable elders as they stood in anticipation of my death and an end to their terror. The priest, Emmanuel, walked the steps as he spoke out to the waiting herd grabbing their wandering attention. "This *witch* has been found guilty of doing the biddings of her Master, Lucifer, by cursing Johnathan, son of our own beloved bishop! He has confessed that after being poisoned by this *wench*, he has been having impure thoughts and even *questions his faith*!" That gained a collective gasp and set off a wave of murmuring which he silenced with a hand as he continued to rile their bloodlust up. He turned to the bishop and subtlety nodded instructing him to speak up and he stepped forward, sweat shining off his balding head despite the chill hanging in the air and hands fumbling with the worn silver band that marked him as a widower. He seemed like a timid anxious man but I've seen the purple bruises and invisible hands that littered his son's body whenever Johnathan would dare to sneak to my place under the cover of night for healing after the bishop had taken of spirits. He stepped forward and stumbled, telling me that he was already drunk and had probably already beat his son to half consciousness as he pointed an angry shaking finger at me. "This evil bitch has cursed my precious boy with her wicked seductions! He's come home many a night in a trance barely saying a word before going into a deep sleep! He'll wake up the next morning acting like a stranger, smiley and loose spirited." I smirked at him and laughed wholeheartedly, looking at the bright milky moon against the inky sky flecked with stars feeling the wind kick up blowing the tattered remains of my skirt against my thighs. A sharp pain radiated from my jaw into my head as the priest smacked me, knocking my head against the solid wood scrambling my vision and busting my lip sending blood down my chin. "How dare you laugh at this honest man's misery?" He stepped closer now, grabbing my chin roughly making me hiss in pain pressing his body against mine as I pressed my body into the wood whispering and calling out to the ancients to help me. He grabbed my throat and as much as I wanted to cry out, I didn't because I knew that's what he wanted me to do; to show that he could hurt and break me like he did to his other victims. "I will burn you and throw your charred body right next to your whore of a mother." He stepped back to watch as a stray tear fell down my cheek and another man stepped forward with a can of kerosene that burned my nose as he opened the top. I growled flaring my nostrils and I knew that I looked wild with my wispy, windswept curls blown all over my head and the sudden anger burning in my previous calm demeanor. The priest's thin lip curled up in a smile seeing that he had gotten a reaction out of me and I wiped it right off when I spit on his shoes and before he could do anything, Johnathan pushed his way through the crowd. His hair was faded but obviously messy as he'd seemed to have been awakened and rushed down here. His dark brown eyes scanned over my body, jaw twitching as he saw the injuries and his hand moved as if he wanted to reach up and comfort me but he halted as his father came over and hugged him smiling sheepishly. "Tell these God fearing people what horrible spells she put upon you, son." Jonathan and I stared at each other, both knowing that I would die whether he told the truth or not because they needed to control their tiny world and exercise the destructive rights given by their "righteous, almighty father". He walked up to stand near me and gently pushed my hair to the side running it from my tender jaw to my throat with a little pressure making me moan. He licked his juicy lips as our eyes met and he slowly leaned down to kiss me, a simple loving peck as the crowd went into an uproar as they tore us apart and Johnathan struggled against his dad and two other men. The priest stormed over and grabbed my hair by the roots and pulled my head back exposing my throat pricking it with the sharp blade that he'd taken from his eloquent robes. He was nearly rabid and foaming as he guided and amped their worshipper bloodlust, "Should I slit its throat and drain this succubus where it stands? Or shall we burn the damned and send it back to its Master?" The various cries combined with the adrenaline of my impending doom made me dizzy but I blinked through as the pungent smell of kerosene burned my nose and eyes as it soaked my clothes and the roar of fire awakened my senses. The majority cried for me to burn and suffer and I had to applaud them for their commitment to the barbaric and the tried and true method of murder. I looked at Jonathan and he broke down, crying as he was taken down and restrained from fighting me back; his dad praying adamantly trying to cast imaginary demons out of his son. I whimpered and fidgeted as the crowd's bloodlust grew more violent and they started to throw stones many not hitting my face but as bishop saw that his son wouldn't give up, his anger grew and he joined the mob hitting me in the head. I slumped against my chains screaming as I felt my nagging shoulder pull further out of place and my wounds burned of kerosene and sweat. I whimpered and moved away from the blistering heat of the torch as the man moved over to Jonathan whose eyes were angry and calculating as he watched me pant and took the torch with shaking hands. He looked me in my eyes and I felt the compassion and empathy for me and his loathing for the people responsible for my suffering as he stood staring at me. The night grew deafly silent as Johnathan's thunderous voice roared out into the trees, "Stop!" I was fading in and out of consciousness, the pain of my wounds too great but hearing his anger pulled me out of my haze. He looked out at the stunned crowd illuminating their murderous faces in a warm glow with the same torchlight that burned my eyes. "I will not harm or kill her! Not because of a spell, because I love her! She's healed me from the very arms of death!" His father smacked him making me cringe at the thought of the faint bruise already forming on his beautiful, dark skin. He then snatched the torch and came to stand in front of me, watching delightedly as I mustered enough energy to squirm away from the sudden wave of heat of the torch making me nauseous. "If you don't burn this *witch* to set yourself free, I will!" The world seemed to move in slow motion as I watched the flames dance and flicker across the wood inching closer to my skin. I heard the excited cries of the crowd mixed with the heartbroken scream and struggle of Johnathan and the corrupt preachings of the priest making my murder some "sermon" for the mindless horde. As the flames singe at my feet, I black out for the final time embracing the calming silence of the darkness feeling as though I'm floating in a warm black sea free of worries and cares. I'm swimming and splashing and diving remembering the last time I enjoyed swimming around without judgmental stares and whispers being with my mother until something deep underneath the pitch black surface grabs my burned ankle pulling me under as I struggle and fight only seeming to make it stronger and I gasp for air filling my lungs and passing out for the millionth time. I cough and throw up the water sitting up grabbing onto the cool porcelain tub as I look around groggily feeling the warmth of being indoors. "Oh good! You're awake, my child." I look up at a welcoming woman with salt and pepper locs and caring caramel eyes as she looks me over before bustling around again, collecting jars of different herbs and roots off of various shelves. "You are lucky I saved you, little witch child. That spell is a lot of work for a lady my age. You have many questions and I'll tell you everything I know." She helps me out of the tub and into warm, dry clothes before placing me in a bed. "When?" "When you rest." She touched my forehead and I instantly fell into a deep sleep with my mind racing a mile a minute wondering where I was, who was this woman, and if I had some magical ties that my mom didn't tell me and why she wouldn't tell me.


End file.
